


Coward

by Recourse



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Coitus Interruptus, F/F, Internalized Homophobia, Masturbation, Pre-Canon, Smut and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:31:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recourse/pseuds/Recourse
Summary: Rachel drunkenly climbs through Chloe's window at the worst possible time.





	Coward

Chloe wishes she was stronger.

She wishes she could just will this away. What eats at her insides as she tosses and turns in her bed, thinking of Rachel.

Rachel, who’s off at yet another party.

Rachel, who she yelled at just hours ago, because they’d had plans today and of course Rachel canceled.

Rachel, who pulled her out of total isolation and saved her, yet is still so far out of Chloe’s reach.

Rachel, who kissed her.

It always goes back to that.

It’s impossible for Chloe not to think about it. This is always when she remembers Rachel pinning her in a quiet corner during a house party, remembers her hands gliding down her sides, remembers the taste of her lipgloss. Rachel’s hands reaching under her shirt, teasing her stomach.

That wasn’t the only time, but it was the most intense, and Chloe wants to stop thinking about it, but she can’t. If they hadn’t been interrupted by that drunk shithead spilling beer all over Rachel’s top. If they’d found some privacy. If Rachel actually loved her.

Chloe rolls onto her back, staring up into the ceiling. She can feel Rachel’s hands on her, she could swear it. She runs a hand down her chest. There’s only one way to get to sleep on nights like these. She wishes she wouldn’t take it.

But she can never help herself.

She reaches into her panties and a new wave of disgust rolls through her, feeling how wet she is. She shouldn’t have this reaction to thinking about her best friend, shouldn’t want her fingers and her tongue and her body on top of hers, _anyone_ would see this and think she’s a fucking perverted creep, and yet she keeps going anyway, sliding her fingers between her lips and rubbing slowly up and down. Imagining she’s somewhere else, with someone else, who wouldn’t make her feel this way.

She pushes against the fabric of her underwear, trying to find a good angle so this can be over quickly and she can forget she did it at all, and it’s too confining. She quickly yanks it down and lets it dangle off one ankle while propping herself up against the wall. She closes her eyes and lets her imagination guide her, bites down on her free hand to muffle the little high-pitched noises coming out of her. She picks up her speed, running quick circles against her clit. It’s not hard to imagine Rachel doing this, bringing her to the point of no return and pushing her past, that wicked smile on her face, eyes gleaming, her hand between Chloe’s legs—

_Thump._

Chloe’s eyes snap open, and she scrambles to throw the covers over herself as her window opens and a head full of long blonde hair pokes through. Rachel’s eyes turn to meet hers, her face a broad, drunken smile.

“ _Heeeeeey_ Chlo,” Rachel slurs, tumbling over Chloe’s desk and landing face-first on the floor. She recovers with as much grace as she can, standing up and wavering in place as Chloe pants and stares.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

“Was thinkin’ of crashing here tonight, cuz Blackwell’s all the way over there,” Rachel says, throwing an arm in a vaguely western direction. “N’ you’re right here.”

Chloe never says no to Rachel. She can’t say no now, even though she’s bottomless and soaking wet and still feels like she’s three seconds from coming. “Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s cool,” Chloe stammers, hoping Rachel’s drunk enough to just pass out in her bed without noticing. She shuffles over to the far side of the bed as Rachel pulls off her shoes. Chloe tries to think of a way to get her panties back on without being extremely obvious about the fact that they’re wrapped around one of her ankles right now, but comes up with nothing before Rachel is sliding into bed beside her, and then pressing herself against Chloe’s back. She freezes in place as Rachel settles into a spooning position, her hands on Chloe’s stomach.

“M’sorry I ditched you,” Rachel mumbles. “Party sucked anyway. Dunno why I keep going sometimes.”

“It’s — it’s fine.” _Jesus Christ Rachel just pass out already,_ Chloe begs in her mind.

“Mm…” Rachel runs her hand along Chloe’s arm. The wrong arm. When she reaches Chloe’s hand, Chloe feels Rachel perk up.

Rachel’s _giggling._ She pulls at Chloe’s hand and she just lets her, because she knows she’s caught now, the way Rachel runs her fingers up and down in the gaps between Chloe’s own digits. Rachel leans over her body, trying to catch Chloe’s eyes.

“What were you doing?” Rachel asks. Chloe closes her eyes and puts her head into the pillow. Then she feels something warm and wet on her fingers and gasps, turning her head to see Rachel sucking on them, laughter in her foggy eyes. Chloe can’t look away, can’t stop her body from responding to Rachel’s mouth. She laughs as she pulls away, licking her lips. “Chloeeeee,” she coos, settling back down behind her and touching her lips to Chloe’s ear. “I know what you were doing before I came in…”

Chloe’s face is burning up, she can’t even think of a way to respond, this is so fucking embarrassing, she wants to just slip into the earth and disappear except now Rachel’s hand is ghosting over her bare hip. “Rachel,” she breathes, “I—”

“I interrupted you,” Rachel whispers. “I shoulda let you finish.” Her hand wanders, closer and closer. Sweat beads on Chloe’s neck. “But I can help out now…”

Her fingers gently part Chloe’s lips. Chloe gasps, her limbs tensing, her mind blanking out. This can’t be real, this isn’t really happening, she can’t—she can’t really—

Rachel laughs into Chloe’s neck. She hums as she sets a slow, steady pace, torturing Chloe with her soft, delicate fingers. Chloe’s hands lock into fists, kneading the covers, her breath catching in her throat.

She stays that way, frozen, letting Rachel touch her, until Rachel speaks up again. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” She punctuates her words by pressing hard on Chloe’s clit, eliciting a moan. She bites her lip. Rachel’s teasing her now, she always teases, but never like this, _never…_

Rachel’s hand isn’t moving, and Chloe needs it, needs more. “Do you?” Rachel asks, and it doesn’t sound like teasing this time. It’s small and honest and intimate.

“Yes,” Chloe admits, she does, she always thinks about Rachel, no matter how much she doesn’t want to, doesn’t think it’s right, but here Rachel is, doing this, right now. _She’s drunk, it’s not real, it doesn’t matter,_ Chloe repeats in her mind, because getting her expectations up too high always failed her before.

Rachel starts back up again, but faster, harder, and Chloe can only think of how skilled her fingers are, how Rachel’s mouth on her neck feels. Rachel rocks her body against Chloe’s back, breath hissing through her nose.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Chloe breathes as Rachel changes her angle of attack, then she can’t stop herself, “God, Rachel, _fuck_.” She’s shaking, whimpering, _mewling_ for Rachel, the closer she gets to climax the less she can control herself, the less she thinks of doing that at all, all that matters is that Rachel is here and touching her and making her—

She curls her limbs up as shocks run through her, folding the pillow over her face to stifle her moan. Her muscles tighten until they can’t anymore, and then release, and she feels like melted putty on her own bed, Rachel’s arms around her waist.

Rachel kisses the back of her neck again. “There,” she says with an air of satisfaction. “Finished what I started.”

Chloe has no idea what to say. What do you say? Should she turn over, try to return the favor, or—

Rachel yawns. “Sleep now,” she mumbles, squeezing Chloe’s waist. “‘M tired.”

Chloe wants to ask what the hell that was. What the hell any of this means, all this shit Rachel does. But her eyes aren’t staying open, and her body is spent, and she never gets straight answers anyway.

She wakes up before Rachel. Wriggles out of her arms, dresses herself properly, goes to the bathroom, and sits on the toilet for an hour, staring at her phone and dreading seeing Rachel again. They never talked after any of the kisses or the makeouts or any of it, because Chloe’s always afraid that if she does, it’ll be the last time.

She goes back to her room. Rachel sits on the edge of the bed, stretching her arms out over her head and looking as insanely beautiful as ever in the morning light. She turns her eyes towards Chloe, a tired smile on her lips.

“Hey, girl,” she says with a yawn. “God, I was trashed last night. Guess I decided to stay here?”

Chloe swallows. “Yeah. You did.”

“Cool. You’re the best, Chloe.” Rachel cracks her back. “Can you give me a ride back home? I need coffee _bad._ ”

Chloe looks away. There’s a lump in her throat. She needs to clear it before she speaks.

“Sure.”


End file.
